


Life Goes On

by IgnisFlos



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Implied/Referenced Sex, descriptions of injuries and death but it’s not graphic, it is all angst, vanielle is dead sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28493232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnisFlos/pseuds/IgnisFlos
Summary: Sodden was brutal, but not as brutal as losing Vanielle and realising that life goes on without her. Whether Tissaia wants it to or not.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Vanielle of Brugge
Comments: 11
Kudos: 12





	Life Goes On

**Author's Note:**

> so i posted the clip of tissaia touching vanielle’s arm on twitter and now i ship it, along with half of my timeline.
> 
> i apologise in advance for the pure angst.

Tissaia De Vries had two constants in her life. The first was Aretuza; the one place she dedicated her life to, Aretuza was the embodiment of magic, of magical education, it was everything to Tissaia, and to the Continent. The second, was Vanielle of Brugge. Tissaia’s confidant, her closest friend. Her lover.

Nilfgaard was a threat to Aretuza so, naturally, they had to be stopped. Tissaia didn’t regret Sodden, per se, she would just change what she did. If Tissaia knew Fringilla would throw dimeritium in her face; that over half of the twenty two mages would die—Coral now a stump, Vanielle with two arrows to the chest and one to the stomach—that Triss and Sabrina would be injured; that Yennefer would go missing… yes, she’d change it. Who wouldn’t? Sodden was a mess, a massacre of mages. Tissaia wouldn’t have gone to talk to Fringilla (she knew now that the younger sorceress was beyond help). Instead, she’d have stayed at the keep and maybe less mages would have died. She should have been with them, been able to help them. Maybe Vanielle wouldn’t be lying in a pool of her own blood with arrows in her and a trickle of red flowing from her mouth and staining her lips a beautiful scarlet. Or, maybe, it would have been Tissaia who took those arrows, and Vanielle would be the one staring at Tissaia’s body.

Either way, both options involved a bloody death and losing a loved one. But if she could, Tissaia would take Vanielle’s place.

The first thing Tissaia saw after arriving back at the ruined keep was Coral. Her arms and legs were missing and she was pinned to a tree by a sword through her stomach—a testament to how brutal Nilfgaard could be. Though they drifted apart, Tissaia and Coral knew each other well. As sad as it was seeing an old friend like that, Tissaia pushed those thoughts aside; mourning would come later.

Triss and Sabrina were by the gate, both on the floor injured. Tissaia would help, truly, she would, if only she didn’t have lungs full of dimeritium and was able to access her magic. Gods, she could hardly walk, attempting to use magic would probably kill her at this point, and Tissaia sure as hell wasn’t about to test that, she rather liked being in the land of the living.

The dead and injured were scattered: serious wounds, stabbed by swords, buried by rubble, pierced by arrows, Tissaia didn’t know where to look. Eventually, her eyes fell on Vanielle and Tissaia froze in place. The rest of the victims of Sodden were forgotten. Tissaia fucked up. She wasn’t with Vanielle and Vanielle died alone.

Tissaia stared for a while, she didn’t know exactly how long, but she forced herself to keep her composure. Vanielle would want her to help the others, but she  _ couldn’t. _ And that was the worst part; Tissaia wasn’t able to do what Vanielle would want her to if she were alive, Tissaia was utterly useless right now and that feeling, in itself, cracked her perfect poise.

Tissaia was an accomplished healer, even without magic, but she was missing the right tools, nor was she even in the right condition to heal someone. Those who were injured, however, had either bled out and died, or the wound had stopped bleeding. Not that hose still alive had much longer; infections would soon start seeping in and kill them. They’d be grabbed by the throat by a sudden fever.

Knowing she was of no use to anyone, Tissaia made her way over to Vanielle’s body near some steps. The walk was slow, she had to round bodies and rubble and stop for breath once or twice, but Tissaia got there and lowered herself to the floor next to her lover.

Ex-lover.

Vanielle was on her back, head lolled to the side, and eyes dull. Tissaia didn’t know how long it had been, but the blood on Vanielle’s dress and the blood running down her chin had dried. A day, at the very least. It was a strange sight, seeing Vanielle like that; she normally had so much life to her, especially around Tissaia. The two spent their evenings together every day. Often reading, often chatting over idle gossip, often helping the other de-stress after a long day. Sometimes tangled in each other's limbs, lazily kissing, eliciting sounds of pleasure. Now that would be no more.

Vanielle would never again call Tissaia “my love” or “my darling.”

Nor would Tissaia ever call Vanielle “dear” again.

But, Tissaia supposed one last time couldn’t hurt her. A final goodbye.

“Goodnight, Vanielle, dear,” Tissaia gently closed Vanielle’s eyes and let a single tear fall before getting up and pretending she was completely unaffected.

Life goes on, and so must she.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading hope u enjoyed the pain :)


End file.
